


Stargazing

by pipermca



Series: Black on White on Black [5]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Camping, Established Relationship, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Transformers Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 15:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13883838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipermca/pseuds/pipermca
Summary: Bluestreak pushed Hound flat. “Lay back. I want to be on top this time.”“Works for me. But why?” Hound asked, curious.“Because... I want to feel you look at the stars.”





	Stargazing

**Author's Note:**

> This is a vignette I've had in mind for a long time and finally got around to writing. It takes place between chapters 1 and 2 of [The Ghost of the Howling Plains](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12156300/chapters/27586335) (Bluestreak makes reference to it at the beginning of chapter 2), but it's not necessary to read that first!

Hound settled on his recharge pad and waited for Bluestreak to get himself situated. “I really hope Jazz gets some rest,” he said quietly. “He looked so exhausted.”

“He’ll be fine after some recharge. Like he said, we did a lot of uphill driving today.” Bluestreak smiled at Hound. “He’s built for speed, not endurance.”

Rolling over on his side, Hound leaned on his elbow and propped his helm up with his hand. “But you’re fine, and you’re built for speed,” he said, brushing his hand against Bluestreak’s chest.

Laughing softly, Bluestreak grabbed Hound’s hand and brought it up to his lips for a kiss. “Not anymore. I’ve had a few upgrades, remember? I’m also used to these kinds of roads.” He let go of Hound’s hand and brushed his digits over his partner’s cheek. “G’night, pup.”

“’Night, Blue,” Hound said. He flicked his headlights off as he rolled onto his back.

Bluestreak settled on his side with his door wings spread behind him. Out of habit, he pulled a quick scan from their perimeter sensors, and then closed his optics when the instruments reported nothing unusual.

They had only been resting for a few kliks when Bluestreak heard Hound shift on his recharge pad. Bluestreak opened his optics again and saw the tent was dimly lit with the glow from Hound’s optics. “What is it?” he whispered, already pulling another report from the perimeter sensors.

“I hear something,” Hound whispered back, and made a shushing sound.

Bluestreak bit his lip to hold back his words and strained his audio receptors. Nothing. He was about to ask Hound exactly what he’d heard when the green mech let out a gust of air in a quiet laugh. “Oooh,” Hound said, letting his helm drop back to the mat. “It’s Jazz and Prowl.”

“Talking?” Bluestreak guessed. He wondered if Jazz was taking Prowl to task over the extra-scary “ghost” story the ex-Enforcer had told just before they turned in.

“No.” Hound’s helm turned and his glowing blue optics looked into Bluestreak’s. “They’re interfacing, I think.” 

“Really?” Bluestreak listened again. He knew Hound’s hearing was far more acute than his, but he couldn’t pick up any unusual sounds outside of their tent. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Well, I’m **trying** not to eavesdrop.” Hound looked up at the roof of the tent. “But they’re making it kind of hard,” Hound whispered.

Bluestreak reached out and put his hand on Hound’s chest where he could feel the steady thrum of his spark. “You could just turn off your audio receptors.”

“I guess, but Jazz sounded nervous about us not posting a guard. He’s trusting us to keep watch.” Bluestreak heard the soft chink of metal on mesh, and the glow from Hound’s optics dimmed as the green mech threw an arm over his face. “Then again, I really didn’t need to know that Jazz is a moaner.”

Biting his lip to hold back a giggle, Bluestreak listened again. Still nothing. “How do you know it’s Jazz?” he asked coyly.

“Because whoever is moaning has a voice that’s deeper than Prowl’s.” 

Just then, Bluestreak caught a sound from the direction of the other couple’s tent. He instinctively lifted his helm slightly to listen, and heard a sound that he associated with unmistakable lust. “Oh... Wow,” he whispered. “They’re really going at...” And then he choked back another laugh as Hound’s cooling fans clicked on. “Hound!” he squeaked.

“I can’t help it!” Hound’s whisper sounded strained. “And besides, you haven’t been laying here listening to them for the past ten kliks.”

Now that he could hear them, Bluestreak could understand why Hound’s systems were starting to run hot. He scooted closer to Hound and lifted the green mech’s arm off of his face. As the light from Hound’s optics shone around him, Bluestreak traced his digits down the side of Hound’s helm. “Maybe I can help you drown them out,” he whispered, and pressed his lips to Hound’s.

Hound’s fans kicked to a higher speed.

When Bluestreak broke the kiss and pulled back, he could see that Hound looked uncertain. “We shouldn’t. We’re...”

“We’re. Not. On. The. Clock.” With each word, Bluestreak nibbled further down the side of Hound’s jaw. He dug his digits into the transformation seam at Hound’s hip, the one that always made the four-by-four’s engine rev when he tweaked the circuits inside. “They aren’t clients. We’re just camping with friends.” He rubbed his thumb across the cover of Hound’s hip port, and the green mech’s ventilations stuttered. Bluestreak rested his chevron against Hound’s forehelm and looked directly into his optics, their combined blue glow the only light in the tent. “We’re allowed to have fun, too.”

After a moment, Hound’s optics closed and he crushed his mouth against Bluestreak’s, his lips pulling and biting the Praxian’s. He gripped Bluestreak’s shoulders, his digits sliding down to trace the hinges of Bluestreak’s door wings and sending delightful tremors through his frame. Just as Bluestreak was starting to melt into the touches, Hound stopped and pulled back. “I’ve got an idea,” he whispered. “Let’s go outside.”

“What? Why?” Bluestreak asked, confused. He watched Hound roll away from him, off of his recharge pad. As Hound started rolling up the pad, he said, “Where are we going?”

Hound nudged Bluestreak to move off of his own pad, then knelt down and started rolling it up as well. “If they finish up before we do – and by the sounds of them, they will – we won’t have to be quiet if we’re away from camp,” Hound whispered. He handed Bluestreak’s pad to him and smiled. “Besides, I’ve been thinking about doing this for a while.” Then he ducked out of the tent.

Bluestreak followed Hound. Outside the tent, the sounds coming from their campmate’s tent were far louder than they had been inside their own tent, and Bluestreak bit the inside of his lip as he grinned. Hound was right: the moaner was definitely Jazz.

As they walked out of the camp, Bluestreak registered the ping sent by the perimeter sensors. Hound continued off into the bush, and Bluestreak hurried to keep up. “How far are we going?” he asked quietly. 

Hound paused and glanced up at the sky and the sprawl of stars overhead. “This should be far enough,” he said, and rolled out his pad again. He flopped down on it as Bluestreak unrolled his own. “We’re far enough from camp that they won’t be able to hear us, but we should still be able to pick up the sensors if anything happens.”

“Which it won’t. I know.” Bluestreak settled down next to Hound and nuzzled his nose against Hound’s helm. “But, pup... If this is something you really wanted to do, we could do this any time. You know, at home.” 

Hound kissed Bluestreak firmly on the lips once before hugging him close. “It wouldn’t be the same,” he said, running his hand down Bluestreak’s back, clawing gently at the seams and hinges he knew would draw little gasps from the Praxian. “At home... The sky wouldn’t be as dark. We’re too close to the city. It smells like us, like home.” His other hand traced around the edges of Bluestreak’s hip port as he used the weight of his own body to slowly push Bluestreak down onto the recharge pad. “This is different, which makes it... intriguing.” As Bluestreak settled back onto the mat, Hound pressed his lips to the side of Bluestreak’s helm, laughing quietly as he heard Bluestreak’s cooling fans engage. “Open? If you’re ready.”

Bluestreak didn’t need any more of an invitation. Letting his port slide open, Bluestreak pulled out his interface cable and clicked it into Hound’s socket, then pulled Hound’s cable out to plug it into his own. He nuzzled the underside of Hound’s chin, waiting for the pings and handshakes to finish. Once the initial recognition was completed, their systems synched quickly, firewalls falling and data connections happening in nanoseconds. Familiarity with each other formed over a thousand vorn at each others’ sides meant their processors linked together smoothly, following well-worn paths that had been traced hundreds of thousands of times.

As Hound moved to swing his leg over Bluestreak’s hip, though, the Praxian stopped him with a hand and a quick flash of intention over the hardline connection. Hound’s comment about the dark skies had suddenly inspired Bluestreak. [[Wait. I have an idea.]] Bluestreak pushed on Hound’s chest plate, sitting up and twisting as he pressed Hound back down onto his back. [[Lay back. I want to be on top this time.]]

Curiosity and acceptance flew from Hound into Bluestreak’s processor. [[Works for me. But why?]] Hound blew heated air from his vents, his fans running fast, as Bluestreak straddled his legs and raked his digits across the ridges of Hound’s radiator grill. A light shower of sparks flickered across Hound’s frame as the four-by-four shuddered. 

[[Because.]] Bluestreak leaned forward and kissed the flat planes of Hound’s chest, then ran his glossa around the circumference of one of Hound’s headlights. [[I want to feel you look at the stars.]]

Understanding lit up their connection. Even as he arched up into Bluestreak’s touch, a smile spread across Hound’s face. Bluestreak closed his optics, and let himself sink into Hound’s perspective.

Usually, they traded shared sensations back and forth across their connection, each kiss and lick and caress sent across the hardline and causing a feedback loop to form, building charge up slowly or quickly depending on how they controlled the flow of data. Other times they sent memories of shared experiences, pure emotion and memory flickering like lightning through their processors until the charge overwhelmed their systems. And, occasionally, they simply sunk into knowing each other, being each other, slowly tipping into the vertigo-inducing maelstrom of utterly becoming each other while still residing wholly in their own frame. 

This night, Bluestreak shivered as he fell into Hound and looked up at the sky above them.

The stars were spattered against the inky blackness in what seemed like a random manner. But Hound’s processor grouped the stars automatically, finding order in the bright waypoint stars and seeing the connections between their neighbours to form the patterns he had learned so long ago.

Directly above them, the Forge of Solus Prime formed a cross in the sky, pointing back towards Iacon. Below that was Epistemus's Cloak, and to one side was the Broken Spark Casing. His optics still closed, Bluestreak whimpered as Hound turned his helm slightly. A flush of charge rippling between them, and Bluestreak pressed his lips to Hound’s collar fairing as the green mech’s digits slid down his sides, dipping into his seams and brushing the circuitry underneath. At the tip of Bluestreak’s trembling door wing hung the oblong arrangement of stars that made up the Matrix. Below the sweep of the door wing, near the horizon, was the red and yellow splash of the nebula, just rising clear of the mountains.

Bluestreak soaked in all of this information, looking through Hound’s optics as the four-by-four gazed up at the sky, seeing and recognizing each constellation like an old friend. Along with the visual input, Bluestreak felt Hound’s humbleness as he saw each star, and understood it for what it was: a distant world in its own right, with its own planets and moons. Hound saw and knew which points of light had planets that supported life, and which had intelligent life. He remembered which insignificant dots in the vast darkness held civilizations and governments, and homes and mundane lives, and lovers curled together in the dark staring up at the sky and looking back out at them.

And there – that was the revelation that caused Hound to gasp with emotion and awe, and cling to the Praxian pinning him to the ground, and shudder as his own feeling of insignificance compared to the size of the galaxy came ricocheting back to him, but overwritten with love from Bluestreak. 

How could Hound possibly be as insignificant as he felt when he was **everything** to Bluestreak? 

It’s one thing to be verbally told an endearment. It’s another to understand it on a core level, where there could be no misinterpretation or deflection of its truth. But it was overwhelming to comprehend Bluestreak’s love for Hound and Hound’s for Bluestreak’s, echoed back to each other perfectly in a bond built over a millennium.

[[I have stood by your side for centuries, and will do so for as long as I am able. You are my foundation and my inspiration. I would move the moon and the stars from their orbits for you. _I love you._ ]]

Bluestreak made another small sound, overcome by the ferocity of emotion from Hound that fed back through the hardline, as he pressed himself into Hound, fitting his frame perfectly against his lover’s. His digits ground into Hound’s shoulders, sliding under his plating and digging into his covered tires, as that one thought, that one concept was refreshed and examined and questioned and answered, hundreds of times in a matter of seconds. Each time the packet of data was transferred from one processor to the other, a charge built, until a shimmer of sparks lit up the air around their frames. Then, in a flash of blue light, their processors synched, sending a cascade of energy through both of their frames, tripping breakers and sending systems into reset.

* * *

As Bluestreak’s processer finished booting up and his optics flickered back online, he instinctively looked up at Hound’s face. The green mech was already back online, his glowing blue optics locked on the stars above them. When he felt Bluestreak move, he looked down and smiled. Pure contentment trickled through the hardline as he snugged Bluestreak closer to him and gave him a gentle kiss.

[[Can we stay out here for a little while longer?]] Bluestreak slid off of Hound’s chest, curling against his frame with a leg and an arm thrown over him. Plugged into Hound with a portion of his processor kept busy keeping the connection alive, Bluestreak felt the ephemeral peace he always experienced right after they’d interfaced. [[It’s just... This is nice.]] He reinforced his request with the feeling of how comfortable he was at the moment.

Hound looked back up at the sky. [[That’s fine by me. But we should eventually get some proper recharge. Tomorrow’s another long drive.]] Hound’s reminder came with no sense of immediate urgency, though, sensing how calm Bluestreak’s normally chaotic processer was.

[[I know.]] Bluestreak tugged himself closer to Hound’s side and brushed his lips against his shoulder. [[Just a few more kliks. I’ll set a timer?]]

Agreement came through the hardline as Hound looked back up at the sky.

Bluestreak closed his optics, and let himself drift on a sea of serenity and silence as Hound gazed up at the blanket of lights above them.


End file.
